


No One Needs To Know

by AntarcticBird



Series: Collide [2]
Category: Glee
Genre: Age Difference, M/M, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-24
Updated: 2013-07-27
Packaged: 2017-12-21 06:01:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/896672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AntarcticBird/pseuds/AntarcticBird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kurt just wants things to be easier. Blaine just wants the two of them to be okay.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> This follows "First Impression" and it is not a WIP. It's completely written (4 parts) and I'll be posting a chapter a day. There's gonna be angst in here, but nothing too heavy. It's a teacher/student relationship, so you know there has to be some angst. :) Hope you enjoy!
> 
> Thanks to [Pace](mailroomorder.tumblr.com) for betaing the fuck out of this, I'd have been lost without her, I'm having a hard time writing angst lately.

Blaine loves NYADA, and he really loves New York. By the end of his first week he knows most of the people in his dorm and some of them have already become his friends. His roommate Paul is a nice guy, and Steve and Aaron down the hall are really cool, too. Steve is a total nerd whose greatest dream seems to be to be cast as Spiderman on Broadway one day, but he does have a killer voice, and he’s the happiest person Blaine has ever met. Aaron reminds him a bit of Wes, minus the gavel. But his need for structure and his way of walking into a room and immediately taking charge of the situation are almost exactly the same. He still throws around a frisbee with the rest of them in the quad and shouts and laughs and throws himself on the ground for a spectacular catch, though, something Wes would never have done.

In addition to all the new friends he’s been making already, he also has Santana in New York, of course. Not at the same school, but he has plans to meet up with her over the weekend to hear all about how she’s settling in at college.

So, yes, he really likes New York, and he’s so glad he got into NYADA.

“Are you coming to lunch?” Paul asks, waiting for Blaine by the door, phone in hand and bag slung over his shoulder. Blaine closes his laptop and nods.

“Just let me text Steve to meet us there, he wanted to be over fifteen minutes ago.”

Paul rolls his eyes. “He probably just got lost again.”

“He lives down the hall!”

Paul shrugs. “The other day he put sugar on his eggs instead of salt because he was trying to have a conversation and handle food at the same time. It's possible.”

“Oh, shut up, you're evil.” Blaine laughs. “His clumsiness is totally cute.”

“If you say so.” Paul shrugs. “Now hurry up, I have class in forty minutes!”

Blaine grabs his bag and hurries after Paul out into the hall.

His classes so far have been interesting - the teachers are great and he feels like he’s already learning so much and he’s only just started. And it’s fun. He is having so much fun.

The only thing that’s ever really getting him down is that he hasn’t managed to speak to Kurt at all. They barely acknowledge each other. It’s not a problem in class; Kurt is nice and friendly to everyone - Blaine included. It’s just that, at the same time, he’s so politely distant to Blaine it actually fucking hurts. It’s not obvious. No one else notices. No one but Blaine.

Not that Blaine expects him to openly acknowledge what happened between them. He doesn’t expect special treatment because he’s had Kurt’s dick in his ass. He just - he doesn’t know what he wants, really. A chance to just speak to him in private, just for a minute. To talk about their weird situation and make it so that they can act normal around each other. So that Kurt will make eye contact with him again and stay to chat with him after class like he does with the other students.

Because the thing is, Kurt isn’t a distant person at all. He likes his students. He is a wonderful teacher, he lets them talk to him about anything, always has helpful advice for everyone. And even though he already has longer office hours than any of the other teachers, there’s always a line of people outside his office. Blaine knows because he walked by the other day, thinking about maybe stopping in to finally get a chance to talk. He’d given up on that idea quickly, though. Not only because of the seven students already waiting outside. (Rachel among them, because she follows Kurt around like a faithful little puppy all the time, staring up at him with big adoring eyes, and Blaine knows she knows he’s gay or he’d tell her. But really, she already knows everything about him. Blaine is pretty sure she has a crush on Kurt, but he’s also fairly certain that her behavior has more to do with hero worship.)

But the real reason he didn’t go in that day was that he doesn’t want to corner Kurt. He doesn’t want to _make_ Kurt talk to him. He wants them to actually sit down like adults and stammer their way through the initial awkwardness and then laugh about it and be okay.

He likes Kurt. He really, really likes him, and he kind of can’t stand the fact that he doesn’t know what Kurt thinks about him. Not that Blaine needs to be liked by everyone. It’s just that he sort of has proof that Kurt found him at least slightly likable a while ago and now he just doesn’t know where they stand.

So he keeps going to class, keeps making friends, and hangs out with Santana on Saturday. He let’s her drag him to a party with her, and spends a good part of the night making out with a dirty-blond guy named Brad who has really nice arms.

Brad is cute and Blaine is more than a little annoyed when Santana, who he kind of lost track of earlier, turns out to be completely drunk shortly after midnight and he has to take her home and hold her hair back while she throws up. He makes her drink a lot of water before putting her to bed, just sliding in next to her because he’s too tired to go back to the dorms at this point.

“Out, get out, this is a Boobs Only zone,” she slurs at him, pushing at his shoulder to get him to move.

“Well, the guy I was hooking up with went home with someone else because you couldn't stay away from the tequila, and I'm not going to walk all the way back to campus now,” he protests.

She slaps his arm in an attempt to hug him. “'m sorry. I'll make it up to you.”

Blaine chuckles at her affectionately. “Just go to sleep, Satan. And if you puke on me, I'll kill you.”

“Love you, hobbit,” she says, and then starts snoring loudly against his shoulder.

It was still a great night, he decides, even if he had really hoped to end up in bed with Brad instead of Santana. But, well. There will be other opportunities.

For a fleeting moment he thinks about Kurt - it happens sometimes when he’s had a really great time at night. He still doesn’t understand why things are as weird as they are between them. Blaine has no idea what would have happened with him and Brad if they had had sex tonight. Maybe it would have been awkward the next morning too. He’s been there.

There’s this guy, Scott, who is the first person on campus he’s actively avoiding - it had been a dorm party and they’d both maybe been a little too drunk and while it had started out great as soon as they’d closed the door to Scott’s room behind them, it had taken a turn for the weird when Scott had started barking at Blaine during sex. They _had_ still managed to get off together, but, well. Blaine can’t deny the fact that he never wants to so much as look at that guy again.

But he’d let Steve from down the hall give him a blowjob the other day and jerked him off afterwards and once they were finished, they'd laughed and said goodnight and met with the rest of the guys for a game of frisbee in the quad the next day and nothing had changed between them. And that is what he wants, that is actually what Blaine is looking for.

But, of course, Kurt is his teacher. It’s different. He’s still a little sad that a good memory like the one of him and Kurt in that hotel room is slowly turning into something that’s really weighing him down. He doesn’t want that. He’ll have to fix it somehow, Kurt’s class is actually his favorite. However, he’s glad that that entire completely fucked up situation cannot keep him from having fun. He falls asleep smiling.

**

Still, over the next few weeks he keeps trying. He’s attentive in class and he works hard. Kurt outwardly treats him the same as everyone else, is just as nice and helpful and supportive towards him as he is towards the rest of his students.

But every time class ends Kurt immediately delves into a conversation with some other student. He always just happens to be looking away to search for something in his bag or even tie his shoes when Blaine walks past, trying to catch his eye.

It’s frustrating.

So Blaine works even harder, hoping to get some kind of reaction out of Kurt. He doesn’t even really care what kind of reaction, he doesn’t even know if it’s reasonable. He just wants Kurt to acknowledge him somehow. His increased effort has the added bonus of him getting really fucking good, good enough for even a _very_ competitive Rachel Berry to compliment him one day as they’re walking out of class together. But even better than that is the fact that Kurt praises him during their next class - looks at him, smiles at him in front of everyone, and says, “Very good, Blaine. I’m impressed!”

That’s definitely progress.

Not wanting to push his luck, Blaine leaves with a smile on his face as soon as class ends that day.

But the next class, he arrives early. Sometimes Kurt’s in the room early, too, setting things up. He could help. Maybe _show_ him that they can be okay. Kurt, however, arrives just on time and with everyone already in the room, and Blaine sighs, takes his place, and works his ass off.

After class he hangs back, pretending to search for something in his bag as the other students trickle out of the room. Kurt always leaves last, and maybe if he waits...

But when he looks up, he sees Kurt fleeing the room right ahead of the last remaining student.

Frustrated, Blaine hikes his bag over his shoulder and makes his way to the dining hall where he’s meeting friends for lunch.

Still, he doesn’t give up. He repeats the same routine after every class: lets everyone leave before him, pretending there’s something he has to take care of immediately. He’s usually busy, so no one really notices he’s behaving a bit strangely.

And yet, Kurt never sticks around to talk to him.

He’s as nice as ever in class, the distance so subtle only Blaine notices it. It’s irritating to the point where Blaine starts asking himself if it’s even worth it to keep trying. If Kurt obviously wants to pretend nothing ever happened, he can totally do that.

Except - he hates this entire situation. It’s not that he wants anything from Kurt in particular. They had fun together and that’s all it was. Except, the way Kurt seems to be avoiding him outside of class almost makes it seem like maybe it wasn’t. And Blaine feels bad about that, fears that Kurt might regret it, and he doesn’t want that; he doesn’t want to cause Kurt any kind of distress. It had been a great night, and Blaine doesn’t want to regret it. The sex had been amazing. He wants to keep this as a secret but good memory. But with Kurt acting the way he is, he feels almost bad thinking of it fondly. He almost can’t think of it at all anymore, because it makes him feel guilty. He doesn’t like feeling guilty for having fun.

Of course he realizes how problematic it is, Kurt's job being in danger if anyone ever - But it’s not like he’s planning to sleep with him again. No one needs to know. No one is _ever going to_ hear about it. He thinks that if they could just talk, he’d finally be able to stop feeling like maybe he did something wrong. It’s a ridiculous thought, he didn’t do anything wrong and neither did Kurt. They couldn’t have known. What they did together doesn’t hurt anyone.

He is also a little bit worried about being treated unfairly by Kurt, if he’s being honest. Kurt doesn’t seem like the kind of guy who’d do that, give him bad grades because their history makes him uncomfortable, but then, Blaine doesn’t really know him.

He needs them be able to move past this. The whole point of a fun, consensual one night stand is to not have any regrets the next morning. Maybe Kurt has a boyfriend? But no, he doesn’t think so. And even if he does, that’s no reason to take it out on Blaine, if he screwed up.

But then, he isn’t really taking it out on him, that’s just what it feels like to Blaine when Kurt flees the classroom yet again before Blaine can approach him and ask to talk to him. All Kurt is doing is not talk to him outside of class. Maybe he’s overreacting. Maybe Kurt isn’t uncomfortable around him or mad at him or whatever. Maybe it’s just Blaine’s perpetual need to please everyone.

Still, he really, really hates this entire situation.

**

Kurt really, really hates this entire situation.

He knows he’s not handling it particularly well either, but he just doesn’t know what to do about it. He needs to think. He needs to talk to Blaine. It’s not that he’s worried Blaine will tell anyone. If Blaine was going to do that, he would have done so already, and Kurt would have heard about it. NYADA is not a big school. The Dean would have heard about it already, and Kurt would know if that were the case. It’s been a month since their night together and nothing has happened, no one has looked at him differently or whispered behind his back. No, he’s sure that Blaine won’t tell.

Still, this is something he had never even imagined would happen. He’s mad at himself, even more so because he knows that it’s really not his fault. That club had been nowhere near the school. Blaine had looked - young, okay, but not that young. And it’s New York. Is he supposed to go around asking every guy who’s younger than he is, “Hey, do you happen to be a student at NYADA?” before having sex with them?

Not that Kurt has lots of one night stands. He’s twenty-five. He thinks he kind of grew out of it. There had been a time during his own time at NYADA as a student when he had seriously enjoyed it - having another warm body to get off with, just good, satisfying fun with no strings attached.

But that had been in between two serious, long-term relationships.

He had met Adam pretty much his first day at NYADA and they had started dating immediately. They had been together for a little over a year. The break up had been a mutual decision, and Kurt had been surprised at how much it hadn’t hurt. The break up had been so mature and almost matter-of-fact. Because Adam had graduated and he was moving back to England and there just had been no way they could have handled that distance. They had liked each other well enough - they had been good together. But Kurt had known, deep down, that he wasn’t passionate enough about their relationship to keep it alive long-distance. And to hear that Adam felt the same way had been _such_ a relief.

So they had talked, and hugged, and parted ways, and Kurt had missed him, the way you miss a good friend who moves to another city. They had stayed in touch for a while, they still commented on each other’s facebook statuses, but there had never been any regret in Kurt’s heart about letting Adam go.

He had enjoyed college life for a while after that. He hadn’t been interested in anything serious for some time. He was so busy with his classes and working part time to help his dad with the tuition money that he really didn’t have the time or energy to commit to dating anyone. So he hadn’t actively been looking for anything.

Sex was easy enough to come by when you knew where to look for it, and he’d had it when he wanted it. Until he had met Mason, during his last year at NYADA, at a mutual friend’s party.

Mason was three years older, smart, funny, quiet, and undeniably gorgeous with his short brown hair and a ridiculous love for plaid that Kurt actually didn’t mind at all.

Mason had lasted a lot longer than Adam had. He’d been cute and attentive and adventurous, talking Kurt into camping trips he surprisingly ended up enjoying, asking Kurt to move in with him shortly after he graduated NYADA.

They had lived together for more than two years, and Kurt had _loved_ him. He had loved him a lot. Their break up hadn’t been easy and it hadn’t ended with a hug. It had ended in tears, for both of them.

In the end, they had just been too different, compatible but not compatible enough. They reached the end of the line when Mason brought up the idea of moving to New Jersey and buying a house, settling down for good.

Kurt had thought about it. Really, honestly, thought about it. The thing was, he’d been twenty-four at the time, Mason had been twenty-seven. Kurt wasn’t ready. He’d had one role as an understudy on Broadway. He had been in a few off-Broadway productions. He’d been offered a teaching position at NYADA for the upcoming semester and he wanted to accept it because he loved that school and because he needed to pay the bills and working in the arts at all, even as a teacher, was better than waiting tables.

Bottom line was, he wasn’t done living his life, he wasn’t done being adventurous and having fun, he wasn’t ready for the responsibilty of settling down with someone. He still had places to go and things to do and experiences to make and he couldn’t imagine himself owning a house, leaving the city, settling down. Not yet.

So he’d told Mason the truth, explained how he felt, promised him that he loved him and that he’d want all these things one day, with him, if possible. They had cried, both of them, as Mason had explained that he didn’t want them _one day_. He wanted all those things now. He wanted a home and a family and a backyard and a dog. With Kurt, because he loved him, too.

They had postponed the conversation, kissing frantically and telling each other it didn’t matter, they’d figure it all out.

For a few more weeks, they had kept up the pretence that everything was fine, had hurried home from work to be with each other every day, unable to keep their hands off each other, desperate promises whispered into each other’s skin as they fell asleep curled together tightly every night.

It had been a long goodbye, Kurt knows in retrospect. It had been them falling apart slowly, clinging to the crumbling pieces of their love until one day, it had been over.

Kurt had been crushed, barely keeping the tears at bay as he moved his things out of their apartment with Puck’s help, who had offered him a temporary place to stay. Mason had offered Kurt the apartment, since he was going to leave the city anyway. But Kurt didn’t want it. It had been _theirs_. He couldn’t stand the thought of being there without Mason.

So, with a last look back at his ex-boyfriend’s red-rimmed eyes, Kurt had closed the door behind himself and left. And it had hurt more than he had ever thought possible.

He’d needed a lot longer to be okay afterwards this time. He’d stayed at Puck’s for a month before finding a place for himself that he liked. he’d been excited about moving in and then depressed by the quiet loneliness that surrounded him in his beautiful but empty new apartment every night when he got home. A few weeks after moving in he’d let his friends drag him out to a club where he had danced to feel better, drunk too much to feel less, and in the end had gone home with a tall blond guy named John to feel wanted. He’d left right after they were finished, walked all the way home through the night, showered, and hadn’t allowed himself to cry as he fell asleep.

After that, he hadn’t wanted to hook up with anyone for a long time.

That night he’d met Blaine had been the first time since his breakup from Mason that he’d felt good about having sex with someone else again.

He’d enjoyed himself. A lot. Blaine had been funny and sweet and eager and so beautiful and Kurt hadn’t thought about anything other than enjoying the moment. It had been great. Fantastic. _Amazing_. He’d woken up the next morning feeling wonderful and loose and happy, stretching his limbs and blinking against the morning sun until he felt awake enough to get dressed and head home.

For a minute, he had even considered waking Blaine to see if he was up for another round before they went their separate ways.

He’s glad now that he decided against it. It’s bad enough that it had happened at all.

It had been the first time since Mason that he’d wanted to be with someone again, and he’d thought it had just been that - fun. A way for two strangers to make each other feel good, no consequences.

And then he walks into that classroom and there he is, and Kurt still just doesn’t know what to do. So much for no strings attached. Blaine might not want anything more from him, but Kurt knows that this isn’t something he can just ignore. Not forever at least, because he’d done a pretty good job of ignoring it those past few weeks. At least outwardly. He doesn’t really know how to deal with it, because even if it had been meant to be just fun, it suddenly means something else. He isn’t sure _what_ it means, but he’d slept with a student. He had fucked a student and even if he hadn’t known, it had still been a mistake. And he doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do now.

Blaine is a good student. Kurt is still new to the teaching thing himself and he doesn’t really have a lot of students to compare Blaine to, but he can tell anyway. Blaine pays attention, he wants to learn, he is helpful towards the other students and seems well liked by everyone. He is talented. Really, insanely talented, with his rich, expressive voice, even if he makes the most ridiculous faces when he sings sometimes. It’s more charming than funny, though. Under different circumstances, Kurt would have picked Blaine as his favorite student weeks ago.

Even if that would probably crush Rachel Berry - the girl apparently went to McKinley in Lima, Ohio, too, and she’s kind of a stalker in an endearing sort of way. Kurt worries that she might have a bit of a crush on him whenever she shows up at his office hours, stares at him with her big brown eyes and a too serious expression on her face, meticulously writing down all of his advice even if it’s really not that great. He’s still learning, too.

But she seems to know everything about him already, so she probably knows he’s gay. He’s also her teacher. Not that that little detail exactly helped to keep him from sleeping with another student.

Kurt sighs and drops his face into his hands, blinking through his fingers at the cluttered surface of his office desk. The room is tiny, he doesn’t really have the space to organize anything. And as much as he loves teaching, he’s not gonna stick around long enough to earn a bigger office. He has other plans for his life. Plans that involve the stage. This is just a step along the way.

So, what’s the worst that could happen if anyone found out?

But then, it’s not even about that. No, he _doesn’t_ want to lose this job. He likes it and he needs the money. But even more, it’s about that feeling in his stomach he has every time he looks at Blaine - like he’s the world’s biggest coward for not talking to him, even if he knows that Blaine wants to. He can see how hard Blaine is working in class. He notices how Blaine meets his eyes when Kurt talks to him, how he smiles gratefully when Kurt gives him little pointers on his breathing or stance or harmonies. It’s almost as if he’s challenging Kurt to acknowledge him and Kurt feels so guilty for not talking to him.

Blaine is probably as confused and shocked about the whole thing as Kurt is. And Kurt is the grown up in this scenario. He just doesn’t know what to say other than “sorry,” and “please don’t tell anyone,” and “it was a mistake, it won’t happen again.” And the thing is, he doesn’t actually think he needs to apologize. They had both enjoyed themselves. And he doesn’t think he needs to ask Blaine not to tell anyone. If he’d wanted to, he would have done it already.

So, Kurt sits in his office and feels guilty without really knowing why. All he knows is that no one can ever know. That, in his mind, is reason enough to feel weird - having to hide who he had sex with. He doesn’t even want to advertise it, but just the thought of what might happen if anyone knew?

Oh god. He needs to talk to Blaine. He needs to find a way to explain what he’s feeling, what he’s afraid of, even if it makes no sense, not even in his own head. They probably both need to talk about it and he can’t put it off any longer.


	2. Two

“You do realize that you’re kind of breathy in your higher range, though, right?” Rachel says matter-of-factly, spearing a piece of tomato onto her fork.

Blaine looks up from his sandwich. “I am?”

Rachel nods, shrugging her shoulders. “It’s not a big deal, obviously not everyone had singing lessons since they were three months old. It’s just something I think you could work on.”

“Thanks, I guess,” Blaine answers. He’s used to Rachel’s bluntness by now, even if it had been a little irritating at first.

“You’re welcome,” she says. “Oh.” A big smile spreads across her face as she looks up at him. “You should totally ask Hummel for advice. He gives great advice. He has office hours this afternoon.”

“Well, you would know,” Blaine teases, taking another bite of his lunch.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He shrugs. “Rachel, you basically live in his office.”

She seems offended for a second before waving it off. “It’s like I told you. I’m here to learn from the best. And he _is_ the best. He’s also incredibly helpful.”

Blaine nods and continues eating. They’re halfway through the semester, but Rachel’s crush is as strong as ever. She worships the ground Kurt Hummel walks on. It’s actually kind of endearing, in a slightly creepy way. But then, everyone loves Kurt. He is kind of a genius and one of the best teachers Blaine has ever had.

“I’ll talk to him,” he decides.

“Good.” Rachel checks her watch. “Let’s go together, after lunch?”

“Okay.” He doesn’t have another class this afternoon, and if what Rachel says is true, he can get to work on his higher range this evening provided he finds an empty practice room.

**

There are already three students waiting outside the office once Blaine and Rachel get there, and, being the gentleman that he is, Blaine lets Rachel go in first.

“What do you even need to talk to him about?” he wants to know.

Rachel straightens her sweater, carefully adjusts her hair with her fingers. “I just have a few questions about that harmonizing exercise from last lesson.”

“Oh, okay.” Blaine does his best to hide his grin as he leans against the wall of the hallway as Rachel disappears into Kurt’s office, closing the door behind her.

He only has to wait about ten minutes before she’s out again, smiling widely, a bounce to her step that hadn’t been there before.

“He said I have great potential and shouldn’t worry about technique so much,” she whispers loudly in his face.

“That’s great, Rachel,” he says, patting her shoulder, and then it’s his turn.

It only occurs to him once he’s closed the door behind himself, turning to Kurt who’s sitting behind his desk with a smile on his face, hands folded on top of a stack of sheet music, that this is the first time they’ve been alone since that night in Blaine’s hotel room.

He swallows, does his best to smile back at Kurt. “Hi.”

“Blaine.” If Kurt is nervous at all, he does a great job hiding it. “What can I do for you?”

“You can have an actual conversation with me.” And, dammit, he hadn’t been meaning to say that. That is not going to make things less awkward.

Kurt’s smile falters for a second. “Have a seat, Blaine.” The way he emphasizes his name tells Blaine everything he needs to know about where they stand.

“Kurt,” he insists, determined now.

“Blaine,” Kurt repeats, a little more firmly.

Blaine sighs, drops into the chair on the other side of Kurt’s desk. “This is ridiculous.”

Kurt lowers his head, stares at his fingers for a moment before meeting Blaine’s eyes. “Look. If you’re here because of -”

“No,” Blaine interrupts. “No! I actually do have a question. About singing. I just - I feel a little - awkward,” he admits. It’s the truth, after all.

“I’m sorry,” Kurt says, sounding like he means it. “I really am. I know what we - I’ve been trying to -”

“Kurt,” Blaine says, and, at the slightly panicked expression on Kurt’s face, quickly shakes his head. “It’s okay. I don’t feel weird about - about what happened. That night. About us. It was great, okay? I mean, you were _there_ , you know it was!”

Kurt breathes, closes his eyes for a second before looking at Blaine with a defeated expression. “It was a mistake. A horrible, horrible mistake, I should never have - You don’t really look like you’re - I thought you were … older.”

“If it helps, you don’t look your age either,” Blaine says. “I thought you were a college student. Like me.”

“Well, I’m not,” Kurt says. “I’m sorry if I’ve made you feel uncomfortable these past few weeks. I’ve just been trying to be professional about it. We can’t change the fact that it happened, but -”

Blaine holds up a hand, shakes his head vehemently. “I don’t _want_ to change the fact that it happened,” he interrupts. “It was amazing. I’m not feeling awkward about _that_. I just - I want us to be okay.”

“I’m your teacher,” Kurt reminds him.

“I know that.” Blaine leans forward in his seat, thinking carefully about his next words. “Okay, look. We didn’t know. It’s not a big deal. But you’ve been acting like - you never talk to me, outside of class. You do with everyone else. You’re obviously not comfortable having me around and I just want you to know that I’m not gonna tell anyone, I’m not expecting anything like it to happen again, and I still respect you as a teacher. You’re my favorite teacher, actually. Not because I’ve seen you naked. But because you’re actually really good at your job. Okay? So whatever it is you’re worried about, you don’t need to be. No one will ever know.”

“I wasn’t worried you’d tell,” Kurt says. “That’s not it at all, this is just - it’s weird, okay? I could get fired if anyone found out, and I actually love this job.”

“I won’t get you fired,” Blaine promises. “Just please, tell me we’re okay? That it doesn’t stand between us?”

Kurt laughs, shakes his head. “You’re sounding so mature about this and I’ve been so -”

“You have a lot more to lose,” Blaine points out. “So, can we be friends now? The way you’re friends with everyone else?”

Kurt hesitates, biting his lower lip. “I don’t know, Blaine. Do you think that’s a good idea with our - history?”

It’s the simple fact that Kurt has actually answered his question honestly that gives Blaine the courage to say what he wanted to say to Kurt for weeks.

“It doesn’t have to be a big deal, Kurt, okay?” He catches his eyes, holds his gaze. “Not if we don’t make it one. It was fun. We had fun together as two consenting adults. You didn’t know who I was and I didn’t know who you were. That’s okay. I don’t want things to be weird between us because it happened. So, we wouldn’t have done it, if we had known. But I don’t see why we have to let it define the way we act around each other now. I don’t want that.”

Kurt sighs, leans back in his chair. “I didn’t mean to be weird about it,” he apologizes. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable at all. Just please try to understand how I feel about this, okay? You are my student. Even if I didn’t know that at the time, it doesn’t change the fact that you are. I want us to be okay, too. I just want you to understand, to _really_ understand, that it would never have happened, had I known who you were.”

“Fair enough.” Blaine leans back as well, smiles at Kurt across the desk. “And I do understand that. And I want you to know that I don’t make a habit of sleeping with my teachers.”

“Okay.” Kurt smiles back at him, tentatively but warmly. “That said, I like you, Blaine. You’re smart and you’re talented, and, despite the weirdness of our … situation, I love having you in my class. Just don’t expect any special treatment. But you’re right, we should have talked a long time ago. I’ve been meaning to, I just couldn’t think of a way to - actually do that. So I’m glad you came here today. I want you to feel comfortable enough to always come to me with any questions you might have. Which, I believe, is why you’re actually here today? Because you had a question?”

Blaine breathes a sigh of relief, nods, and feels a lot lighter than he did a few minutes ago. “Yes. So, Rachel pointed out to me … ”

**

Things are better after that day. To the observer, nothing changes. Kurt is as nice as ever to everyone in class, he treats Blaine the same as everyone, just like he had before. But to Blaine, the change is noticeable. It’s in Kurt’s eyes when he smiles at him, in his entire posture when he addresses him during class. He’s more relaxed, still tentative, but somehow looser than he’d been before.

And Blaine feels so much better. He’s been teased by his friends for his notorious need to get along with everyone, which is not true - he doesn’t have to. He just prefers to not be at odds with anyone, isn’t life just so much nicer if people are nice to each other? But this time, it had really been wearing on him, the thought that he and Kurt might not be able to get past this. Because he _likes_ Kurt. And he doesn’t want him to feel uncomfortable around him, ever.

**

Kurt can’t believe how relieved he feels after talking to Blaine. Even Puck notices that he’s in a much better mood than he’d been the past few weeks and that is actually saying something.

“I’m just glad I don’t have to beat anyone up,” Puck says, taking another swig of his beer.

Kurt looks at him across the table, his face half in shadow in the dimly lit bar. “Who did you want to beat up?” he asks.

Puck shrugs. “I don’t know. I just figured it was about some dude. You know I totally would have, right?”

Kurt actually feels a little touched. “Don’t worry about it,” he says. “Everything’s fine. It was nothing.” He is definitely not going to tell Puck about his one night stand with a student, no matter how good of a friend he has been to him over the last years.

“What did he do?” Puck wants to know.

“Nothing.” Kurt picks up his beer glass, drinks slowly. “We just had some stuff to work out, but he’s not a bad guy, you know?”

“Oh yeah?” Puck grins, leaning forward a little, eager to hear all the details. “So, you're what, dating? You should totally bring him along to movie night tomorrow.”

Kurt shakes his head emphatically, setting his glass back down on the table. “No! No, definitely not. It was a one time thing. It just - got a little complicated.”

“Huh.” Puck gives him a confused look. “I thought the point of one time things was that it wasn’t complicated.”

“Sure.” Kurt grins. “And how did that work out for you and Quinn?”

Puck groans, throwing his hands up in surrender. “Dude! We were, like sixteen. Everyone is stupid at sixteen.”

“Have you seen Beth lately? How is she?” Kurt asks, subtly trying to change the topic.

“Great!” Puck smiles proudly. “She’s so smart. Top of her class and everything. Hold on -” His eyes widen, jaw dropping a little. “You didn’t get someone pregnant, did you?”

Kurt rolls his eyes before giving Puck a firm look. “I’m gay, remember?”

“Sure, just, you never know -”

“No more beer for you. That’s it. Drink up so I can put you in a cab and send you home.”

“It’s not even midnight,” Puck complains.

“Don’t you have to work tomorrow?”

“Nah, I worked last weekend.”

“Fine,” Kurt gives in, and gets up to get them another round.

“So, I’ve been thinking,” Puck announces as soon as Kurt slides back into his seat on his end of the booth.

“Oh no,” Kurt comments.

“Haha. Anyway.” Puck wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. “Since you’re not going to get any more action from your Mystery Guy, let’s hit the clubs and find you someone else?”

Kurt laughs. “What is it with your fascination with gay bars?”

“I’m just trying to help,” Puck defends himself. “We’re bros. Bros help each other get laid!”

“That’s creepy,” Kurt decides.

“No, it’s not.”

Kurt sighs. “Okay. Let’s finish this round and then we’ll see.”


	3. Three

It’s one of those rare days when everyone is out of the classroom before Blaine; only him and Kurt are left. Blaine doesn’t try to hang back and talk on purpose anymore, he doesn’t need to now. Things are fine between him and Kurt, have been ever since their talk in Kurt’s office two weeks ago.

But now that he actually has the chance, he slings his bag over his shoulder and walks up to Kurt who is still sorting through a stack of sheet music.

“Great lesson,” he says, and Kurt looks up at him.

“Thank you, Blaine.” He smiles. “And great job today. You seem to have a lot of practice with harmonies?” It comes out as a question, and Blaine takes it as a conversation starter, because he’s in the mood to chat.

“I was in an all-boys, a capella show choir in high school,” he explains. “We kind of harmonized a lot. After a while, it just feels natural.”

Kurt nods, clearly impressed. “That sounds great. And definitely challenging.”

Blaine thinks about it. “I guess it was, yeah. But mostly it was a lot of fun.”

“For me, too, when I was in high school,” Kurt says. “Glee club was always the best part of my day.”

“We used to throw impromptu performances in the common rooms when we needed to try out a new number,” Blaine tells him. “It was awesome.”

Kurt shakes his head. “Yeah, no. That would have been unthinkable at my school. People would have thrown food at us. Actually,” he laughs. “They did. A number of times.”

“Rachel told me the same thing,” Blaine says. “She went to the same high school you did, didn’t she? McKinley?”

Kurt’s eyes widen. “How do you know that?”

Blaine grins. “Rachel told me.”

“Oh, yeah.” Kurt sighs. “She keeps telling me, too. We even had the same glee club teacher. I think she wants to get me to go to the next reunion with her.”

“You don’t usually go to your glee club reunions?” Blaine asks. He can’t imagine missing a single one with the Warblers. He still misses them like crazy.

Kurt shrugs. “Sure I do. I just don’t always have the time. And whenever I do have the time to go back to Ohio, I usually like to spend the time with my family.”

“I’m from Ohio, too, by the way,” Blaine says. “Westerville.”

“Oh my god!” Kurt looks _excited_ , a wide smile on his face. “You were a Warbler!”

“You know about the Warblers?” Blaine bounces on his feet, happy that he gets to talk about his friends for a bit longer. “I can’t believe it. The great Kurt Hummel has heard about the Dalton Academy Warblers.”

Kurt rolls his eyes at him. “We competed against them a few times. And I thought about transferring for a while during my junior year.”

“You would have loved it there,” Blaine says, because he can’t imagine anyone not loving Dalton. He had the _best_ time there.

“I’m sure I would have,” Kurt agrees. “I think it’s great that the glee club there is actually kind of cool. Says a lot about the school in general.”

“Kind of cool?” Blaine gasps. “The Warblers are like - like _rockstars_. We had a waiting list!”

Kurt shakes his head in disbelief. “We had to bribe people to join. Several times. Are you sure you’re from Ohio? Or, you know, this planet? What kind of school was that even?”

“A very good one,” Blaine answers, feeling proud. “I guess I was lucky. Lucky enough,” he can’t help but want to brag a bit now that he has Kurt’s attention, “To be the Warbler’s lead soloist for two years.”

“Well, of course you must have been talented to get into NYADA,” Kurt says. “But, still. I’m impressed.”

“Thank you.” Blaine smiles proudly. “I learned a lot during my time there. I guess I really was lucky, most of all.”

“You are talented, Blaine,” Kurt assures him. “And you work really hard. You deserve to be here.”

“I like being here.” Blaine takes a quick look around the room, the surroundings already so familiar.

“It shows,” Kurt tells him. “It really does.”

Kurt has to go then, and Blaine makes his way to the dining hall where he is supposed to be meeting Aaron for lunch. Now that the awkwardness between him and Kurt is really finally, gone, he really does love _everything_ about NYADA.

**

Blaine leaves the practice room feeling not entirely good about his singing that day. Ever since he’s been working on his higher range he’s noticed a definite improvement. However, these past few days, as soon as he’s sitting down at a piano, all the things he’s learned don’t seem to be working anymore. And now his voice is getting weaker again even standing up. No one has commented on it yet (even though he knows that Rachel will, at some point), and he hopes to figure out what his problem is before it gets to that.

Checking his watch, he’s a little sad to find out that Kurt’s office hours for the day are already over. He’ll have to go some other day and just work extra hard until then.

Three days later, he stands outside Kurt’s office, seriously pissed off at his own voice right now. It’s not that he’s getting worse, it’s just that he can’t seem to improve anymore even if he knows that he can do even better.

But Kurt will know what to do. Rachel was right - Kurt gives the best advice. Blaine knows he could have asked any other teacher, but he also just knows that whatever Kurt tells him to do will actually be helpful.

He’d got caught up in an impromptu frisbee game with Aaron and Steve outside and forgot to check the time, so he’s the last one to see Kurt for the day. His office hours end in ten minutes and the student who went in before Blaine takes forever, and Blaine just hopes Kurt doesn’t have a class after this, he really needs to see him today. He needs to start practicing.

Impatient, he paces the small space in front of Kurt’s office, rolling his neck to relieve some of the tension there. Between classes and friends and parties and assignments, not to mention his own rigorous rehearsal schedule, he hasn’t had much time lately to just relax, and he feels tired and a little cranky.

Finally, the door opens and the student who’s been in there for as long as Blaine has been waiting slips out, clutching some sheet music to his chest.

Blaine hurries up to the door, knocks twice before cracking it open. “Kurt?”

Kurt looks up from his desk, smiling at him. “Blaine. Come in.”

“I’ll be quick,” Blaine promises, closing the door behind him after he slips inside.

“Don’t worry about it.” Kurt shrugs. “I have a few minutes to spare.”

“Oh, okay, good.” Blaine takes a seat, suddenly and irrationally wishing that he’d taken the time to change after his frisbee game because now he’s all dishevelled and sweaty. “I just - have a question.”

“Yes, I figured.” Kurt laughs. “And if you’re lucky, I have an answer for you.”

“Come on, you know everything,” Blaine jokes back, and Kurt rolls his eyes.

“How can I help you?”

Blaine sighs. “I’ve just been - lately, I sound kind of funny when I sing too long or - I was in the practice room the other day playing piano, and my voice just went all breathy. I don’t know. Any advice?”

Kurt eyes him thoughtfully. “I haven’t noticed anything in class. You sounded just fine to me this morning.”

Blaine nods. “It’s better standing up. And it’s not bad, I just never had a problem with my breath sitting down before, and I want to get better and lately I’m just kind of stuck and even sounding worse than a few weeks ago.”

Kurt leans back in his chair, thinks for a second. “You’re kind of a perfectionist, aren’t you?”

Blaine laughs, shaking his head. “Well. I guess, maybe a little. About some things. But that’s not what this is about.”

“Oh, but I think it is,” Kurt disagrees. “I know how hard you work, you’ve made incredible progress over the past three months and every time I walk past a practice room, your name is somewhere on the sign up sheet.”

Blaine grins. “Stalker,” he says, slapping a hand over his mouth immediately, not sure this level of teasing familiarity is okay with their history.

Kurt just laughs it off, takes it in stride. “Okay, first of all, you said it happens when you’re playing piano, right? Remember that sitting down will limit your air supply and -”

“I know that,” Blaine says. “I’ve been playing for years, I never -”

“There are some exercises I can show you,” Kurt interrupts. “I know we’ve been focusing a lot on standing and moving in class, but if you say that this is something you want to work on, I’d be happy to help. It’s not like you’re _standing_ on stage all the time. You’ll be sitting, crouching, lying down - and you’ll have to have perfect breath support for all of that. I can definitely help with that.”

“Thank you!” Blaine beams at him.

“But.” Kurt holds up a hand, indicating he’s not finished. “Before we start on that, I want you to take a _break_ , Blaine.”

“What, but I -” Blaine starts, but Kurt cuts him off again.

“This is non-negotiable,” he insists. “If you want, I can show you some simple little things today. But then I want you to take it easy for a few days. Okay? There is such a thing as too much. Your voice is probably just tired.”

“It doesn’t feel tired,” Blaine objects, humming a few notes to test it. “Nope, feels fine.”

“And the rest of you?” Kurt asks. “How are _you_ feeling?”

Blaine opens and closes his mouth, not really having expected this question. “What does that have to do with anything?”

Kurt leans forward, crossing his hands in his lap as he looks at Blaine intently. “Blaine,” he says. “It has to do with everything. As a singer, your body is your instrument. You need to take care of it and learn to listen to what it’s telling you. Would you expect a piano to be perfectly in tune after being played every hour of every day for half a year? Or have you ever noticed how trumpet players oil their valves before pretty much every rehearsal?”

Blaine nods, biting his bottom lip. “Of course, but -”

“How are you feeling?” Kurt repeats, and Blaine deflates, just a little.

“Tired,” he admits. “And I’ve had this headache for like a week that won’t go away. My shoulders are a little tense.”

Kurt smiles at him. “Then do as I said and take a break. You need it. You can certainly afford it. And it will help your voice. As for the tension, stress will do that to you. And, believe me, that won’t go away. I went to school here myself, I know.”

“So, what do you recommend?” Blaine asks. “Because I’m not dropping out.” He grins.

Kurt rolls his eyes. “No, because I’d personally hunt you down and drag you back here,” he promises. “You’re one of the best students in my class and the only one who actually knows how to harmonize and doesn’t just sing over everyone else, trying to be heard louder than the others.”

Blaine is proud of himself for not blushing, but he can’t deny that the compliment makes him feel _amazing_. “Thanks.”

“So,” Kurt continues. “I suggest yoga.”

“Seriously?” Blaine’s eyes widen. “For my voice?”

Kurt nods. “It’s going to help you relax, and less tension makes for better posture and better breath support and, _believe me_ , it works.”

“So.” Blaine swallows. “That means you do yoga, too?” He and Kurt might have put their one night stand behind them, but the thought still makes Blaine’s blood run a little hotter. He knows first hand that Kurt is flexible, and he doesn’t know a lot about yoga, but Kurt in yoga pants, doing bendy things? That’s - an interesting thought. One he may have to file away for later no matter how guilty he feels about it. And now he’s blushing, dammit.

“I started my first year here,” Kurt says. “It’s fun, it’s relaxing, and I know that there’s actually a yoga group on campus. I can help you find it, if you’d like.”

“No, that’s - that’s fine, thank you, I can -” Blaine shakes his head, forces his mind back into the conversation. “I can find it for myself. But it sounds awesome.”

Kurt smiles at him. “I’ll be asking you whether or not you joined. Just be prepared for that.”

“I’m so going to join,” Blaine promises. “I always wanted to learn, but I never did, somehow.”

“Then now might be the perfect time.”

“I thought you were going to give me tips on how to sing from the diaphragm,” Blaine laughs. “I think I actually like this better.”

“I’m supposed to give you guys the technique for using your voice. Instrument maintenance is part of the deal, don’t you think?” Kurt asks.

Blaine leans back in his chair, not as tired and cranky as he felt when he walked in anymore. “This is why you’re everyone’s favorite teacher, I guess.” He doesn’t mean to say it, but once the words are out and he sees the faint blush creeping over Kurt’s cheeks, he can’t regret saying it. It’s true, after all.

“I’m just doing my job,” Kurt mumbles.

Blaine checks his watch, realizing that Kurt’s office hours are definitely long over by now. “I’m sorry, I should probably -” he gets up, waving towards the door. “I’m sure you have things to do...”

Kurt looks up at him, calmly, shaking his head. “That’s fine. And I did promise to show you some exercises, didn’t I? I was just going to go home now, so if you have a bit more time?”

Blaine bounces on his feet, happy because Kurt is so nice. “Someone told me I need to relax, so I just decided to cancel the private dance lessons I was going to give myself in half an hour.”

“Great.” Kurt gets up, grinning at him. “Let’s see if we can find an empty practice room, though. This office used to be a janitor’s closet, you can’t even stretch your arms out properly in here.”

Blaine grins back, turns on his heels and walks out of the office ahead of Kurt.

**

It’s the coffee shop _just_ off campus, Blaine goes there whenever he has the few extra minutes to spare. Their coffee is just so much better than anything you can get on campus and they have those peanut butter cookies that Blaine just wants for breakfast and lunch and every other meal of the day every day.

He sees him once he’s paid, turning around balancing his coffee and the plate with the three large cookies.

Kurt is sitting at a small table by the window, face buried in a book, a cup of coffee forgotten in front of him.

Blaine doesn’t even think about it, just walks over quickly, smiling widely when Kurt looks up at him, a faraway expression on his face.

“Kurt,” Blaine greets. “Hi!”

“Blaine.” Kurt closes his book, finger between the pages, and smiles back. “What are you doing here?”

Blaine raises the plate with the cookies. “Taking a break, just like someone told me to.”

Kurt laughs. “I didn’t mean a coffee break, but I guess it’s a start.”

“Totally,” Blaine agrees, and then it’s suddenly quiet. He’s not sure whether he should leave now, he just came over here because he saw Kurt and he likes him and he’s brought a book too, maybe he should find a table for himself and leave Kurt to whatever he was reading -

“Would you like to - sit?” Kurt asks, “For a minute?”

“Oh, yeah, sure.” Blaine puts his mug and plate down on the wobbly little table and slides into the chair opposite Kurt’s. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything important?”

Kurt shakes his head. “I just have an hour between classes and my office is a little stuffy sometimes. Especially since the window doesn’t open. So I came here instead.”

“Good.” Blaine grins, taking a sip of his coffee before pushing the plate with the cookies towards the middle of the cheap formica table top. “Cookie?”

Kurt look seriously tempted. “Peanut butter?” he asks, and Blaine nods enthusiastically.

“Also known as heaven in cookie form.”

“No thanks,” Kurt says, sliding a bookmark into his book and slipping the book into his bag that sits on the chair next to his.

Blaine frowns at him. “Are you being polite or don’t you like cookies? Because if you’re just trying to be polite, I should let you know that I’m going to feel very uncomfortable eating these all by myself if you won’t let me share with you. So it would be politer if you take one and enjoy it.”

Kurt laughs, again, and shakes his head at him. “Fine,” he gives in, taking a cookie off the plate and biting into it. “God, they’re good,” he moans around a mouthful and Blaine makes an affirmative sound before helping himself to a cookie as well.

“So, how’s it going? With you and taking breaks?” Kurt wants to know.

Blaine shrugs. “I guess you were right. I’m less tired and actually getting more done now.”

“I’m glad.” Kurt smiles at him.

“And I have signed up for yoga,” Blaine tells him proudly. “I’m going this Saturday, for the first time. So if I don’t show up to class next week, it’s not because I don’t want to. It’ll just be because I’m going to be a bit slower crawling everywhere with my limbs awkwardly tied into a pretzel.”

Kurt rolls his eyes at him. “Well, you said you didn’t know anything about yoga. I’m not even going to act as if I’m surprised by that blatant and uncalled for demonstration of prejudice.”

“I’m sure it’s really awesome,” Blaine says. “I wouldn’t be going otherwise.”

“You already look a lot more awake than you did last week,” Kurt tells him, looking pleased.

“I feel better,” Blaine promises. “And I’m actually having fun making music again. I’ve been working on this acoustic arrangement of Teenage Dream - oh shut up,” he adds upon seeing the skeptical look on Kurt’s face.

“Hey, I didn’t say anything!”

“No, but you wanted to.” Blaine waves it off. “I know what you probably think about the song. But you haven’t heard _my_ arrangement yet.”

“Is that something you do a lot?” Kurt asks. “Rearranging songs?”

Blaine thinks about it. “I guess,” he answers. “I just like playing around with stuff. And for the Warblers, we had to do it a lot and I volunteered for it a lot of the time. It was good practice and it’s fun...”

Kurt looks impressed and the smile he gives Blaine is genuinely friendly. “That’s really great. That you love music so much.”

“Well, I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t,” Blaine says.

“That’s true. And I do want to hear that song, okay? Play it in class sometime or whatever. I’ll come up with an assignment that fits.”

“Nah, I don’t wanna show off,” Blaine answers, and somehow, Kurt looks even more impressed when he looks at him.

“You’re -” he starts, before stopping himself and looking away. He clears his throat before he speaks again. “Well, you wanted some more tips on breath support and stuff anyway, right? We should probably meet some time for that.”

“Kurt, you don’t have to give me private lessons,” Blaine objects.

Kurt laughs. “I’m not. Do you have any idea how many times I’ve been in a practice room with Rachel because she wanted my opinion on something? And other students too. The class is quite big this year, I don’t have the time to really listen to all of you individually -”

Blaine stares at him. “And you’re telling me _I_ have to learn how to take breaks?”

Kurt blushes. “I like being busy.”

“Yeah.” Blaine gives him a skeptical look. “Sure.”

“Hey.” Kurt crosses his arms in front of his chest, leaning back in his chair. “No judgment from a fellow workaholic.”

Blaine shakes his head. “I just - you want _me_ to take a break? Because it sounds like you could use one too.”

“So, I’m guessing that means you don’t want my help anymore?” Kurt teases.

“No,” Blaine says loudly, and then a little quieter, “No, that’s not how I meant it. I’m sorry. Work as much as you want, just please tell me how to make my voice Broadway strong when I’m sitting down.”

Kurt sighs. “Fine,” he agrees, before picking up his phone to go through his calendar. “How’s tomorrow at five? The classroom will be empty.”

Blaine goes over his own schedule in his head before nodding enthusiastically. “Tomorrow at five is perfect.”

“Perfect,” Kurt says, glancing at Blaine’s empty coffee cup before holding up his own. “I’m going to get a refill. Can I get you one too? As a thank you for the cookie?”

Blaine grins and feels more relaxed than he has in days. “Absolutely,” he says. “Sounds fair.”


	4. Four

It’s the weekend, Saturday night, and when Santana texts him about that club she’s discovered by accident that he absolutely needs to check out, he agrees immediately. He’s been to most of the clubs near his own campus and he hasn’t really hung out with Santana in a long while, and he’s really looking forward to this.

He dresses casually in tight jeans a t-shirt that clings to his chest and shoulders, and walks toward the subway alone, fake ID in his pocket, humming under his breath. He had tried to get Paul to come with him, but he’d declined, having met Santana the month before when she’d visited Blaine in his dorm. They didn’t get along. As hard as he’s tried, Blaine can never quite bring his two circles of friends together. So some weekends, he hangs out with his school friends and some weekends he goes to Santana’s place and hangs out with her friends, and that’s okay. At least, this way, he’s never bored.

Santana has texted him the directions and is waiting for him outside when he arrives. He hugs her hello and she looks him up and down appreciatively.

“You look hot,” she compliments.

“So do you,” he tells her, meaning it.

Santana grins, nudging his shoulder with her own as they wait in line. “Too bad we can’t ever hook up. We’d easily be the hottest couple in this city. People would be knocking down our door for threesomes. We could charge. Neither of us would ever have to work again.”

Blaine laughs. “Well, yes, too bad. I could be a sex worker. Instead I have to settle for Broadway. I’m heartbroken.”

“You’re not on Broadway yet, midget,” Santana reminds him, hugging him around the waist.

The line is moving and the sounds pouring out of the club are getting louder the closer they get to the door.

Once they’re inside, Santana steers him straight toward the bar, separated from the dance floor so that they don’t have to shout when placing their orders.

Beer in hand, Blaine leans against one of the high tables, observing the crowd surrounding him.

The music here is actually good, quiet a few popular songs that he likes, stuff people can actually sing along with. And they do.

Santana rejoins him sipping from her vodka cranberry, familiar arm slipping back around his waist. He’s by himself, all of Santana’s friends, who are slowly becoming his friends as well, already on the dance floor. He’s just had a long week, he needs the drink right now. She waits patiently until Blaine downs the last swig from his bottle before she leans into him. “Dance?”

He nods, bouncing on his feet a little. “Let’s go!”

Dancing with Santana is always fun. They laugh and hug and grind and then after two or three songs they separate and find partners more suited to their preferences. And every few songs, they find each other again, until one of them finds someone for the night. They usually don’t leave together. Santana is an excellent wingwoman.

Once she kisses his cheek and dances away, Blaine only has to turn around to find a guy right there making eye contact and sliding in close. He loves this place already.

He’s finishing his third beer when he sees the familiar face over at the bar. Without even thinking about it, he pushes his way to the front of the crowd, leaning against the bar beside him.

“Hi.”

Kurt turns, expression going from shocked to surprised to pleasantly surprised in a matter of seconds. “Blaine.”

Blaine just grins, because he’s pleasantly buzzed and everyone here is so nice and he’s sure he’ll actually get lucky tonight, and now Kurt is here too and they’re on friendly terms - friendly enough that he can just come over here and say hi and there’s nothing weird about it at all.

“What are you doing here?” he asks.

Kurt’s eyes dart away, one hand coming up to rub his neck. “What are _you_ doing here? You’re not even - how did you even get in here?”

Blaine laughs. “Please. Don’t tell me you didn’t have a way of sneaking into clubs when you were underage.”

“I didn’t go and talk to my teachers when I did,” Kurt points out, looking so uncomfortable for a moment, Blaine feels bad for him.

“Do you come here often?”

Kurt shrugs. “Sometimes. It’s far away from NYADA, so I don’t run the risk of running into students.” He grins. “Except for you, apparently. Don’t tell me you come here all the time, I _like_ this club, I don’t want to have to find somewhere else to go -”

Blaine puts a hand on Kurt’s arm, shaking his head before he thinks, screw it, and orders another beer for himself too once the bartender comes up to them.

Once they both have their beers, they just drift toward one of the few high tables, not even really intending to.

“I might come here again,” Blaine tells him. “I love it here. But don’t worry, I’m not making this a NYADA hangout. I’m here with my friend Santana. She goes to Marymount in Manhattan.”

“You can go wherever you like, Blaine, I didn’t mean it like that,” Kurt says, taking a swig of his beer.

“Everything okay here?” A tall guy with a mohawk suddenly appears next to Kurt, draping an arm around his shoulders.

“Fine,” Kurt tells him, rolling his eyes. “We can move on now any time you want.”

Mohawk guy squints at Blaine, which Kurt can’t see because he’s smiling at a guy who’s been checking him out for the past ten minutes, and shakes his head. “Nah. That’s cool. We can stay a little longer.”

He pats Kurt’s shoulder, makes a really weird face at Blaine, pointing at Kurt behind his back and nodding vigorously in a way that Blaine thinks is supposed to tell him something, and walks off.

“Boyfriend?” Blaine asks.

Kurt visibly shudders. “God, no. Puck isn’t even gay. He just insists on going to gay bars with me to play wingman.”

“That’s nice of him,” Blaine says.

“I guess it is,” Kurt agrees. “It’s also a little creepy.”

They finish their beers together, talking, and then separate on the dance floor, Blaine giving Kurt a little wave goodbye and Kurt smiling back at him.

**

Kurt is surprised to find that this isn’t awkward at all. He’d been worried when Blaine had suddenly appeared right beside him at the bar, but he’s talked to Blaine a lot lately, in class and outside of class. Blaine is - he’s so different from what Kurt expected. He’s fun, obviously. But he’s also smart and talented and generous and wiser than anyone should be at eighteen, and he’s wonderful company. Kurt enjoys hanging out with Blaine.

And he’s friendly with a lot of his students. It’s the kind of teacher he wants to be. He remembers it from his own time at NYADA - those teachers who made the school so much more welcoming and turned the insane workload into something you were actually looking forward to. Those teachers you addressed by their first name and who’d sit at your lunch table occasionally because not so long ago they’d been students themselves and they actually had some helpful tips on how to get through the insanity of performing arts school. He wants to be that for his students. He’s not sure how good he really is at all of that, but he keeps trying.

And this is no different right now, is it? The setting is different and not entirely appropriate, but Blaine is mature enough to get that and they’re just talking, it’s really no big deal. Blaine isn’t even intimidated by Puck. Most guys usually are whenever Puck tries to play wingman for Kurt. Tonight he’s glad that Puck sucks at it as much as he does. But seriously, he wonders sometimes. The things that Puck does, do they work on women? Because they sure as hell don’t work on men, but Puck never has a problem getting laid. Kurt wonders what that says about the world in general.

Once their beers are empty, they go their separate ways and Kurt feels loose and happy and so good about the fact that he and Blaine get along like this now. That one mistake hasn’t actually ruined a potential sort of friendship. Moving to the music, pleasantly lightheaded already, he thinks that he and Blaine could totally have been friends if they were the same age.

But then he sees the cute guy who’d been smiling at him earlier and forgets all about Blaine.

Until he runs into Blaine at the bar again, twenty minutes later, and from then on out it seems to be a pattern for their night. Every time Kurt turns around, he spots Blaine somewhere in the club.

He’s surrounded by guys, sometimes dancing with a stunningly beautiful black-haired girl in a red dress that seems painted on. He seems to be having fun, and Kurt smiles, dances, allows the tall blond shirtless guy who’s been flirting with him for a while to press in close from behind and slide his arms up Kurt’s chest.

It’s another few songs and another few drinks later when Blaine is suddenly in front of him, both of them realizing who they’re drunkenly stumbling into a second too late.

Blaine laughs, Kurt laughs back, and doesn’t resist when Blaine slips an arm around his waist to steady them both.

And then they’re dancing, fast and silly and not really touching, just brushing together every now and then, and Kurt can’t stop laughing, he’s having _so much fun_.

He doesn’t really know how they end up at the bar again, but he really wants another beer, so he buys one. Blaine is holding a full bottle too, curls loose and sweaty, eyes glassy, swaying a bit on his feet as he grins at Kurt.

“You’re drunk,” Kurt informs him, thinking he still sounds pretty clear.

Blaine nods happily, curls falling into his eyes. “Yup. So are you.”

Kurt furrows his brows, thinks about it. “But you’re only a kid. Shouldn’t let you get drunk. ‘s not resp - responsible of me. You should gimme that beer.”

“No.” Blaine clutches the bottle to his chest. “You have your own. But, oh. Kurt. Kurt, Kurt, Kurt!” 

Kurt nods, raises an eyebrow in question. “What?”

“We have to dance, we have to!” Blaine jumps up and down, excited. “I love this song, 's one of my _favorites_. Come on.”

It’s Pink, Kurt recognizes, encouraging them to raise their glasses, and he doesn’t resist when Blaine hugs him around the waist right there by the bar, with one arm because he’s still holding his beer with the other, and spins them around a few times.

“I love this song too,” Kurt informs him, hugging back to keep his balance and swaying awkwardly, not caring about the looks from the people they just almost knocked down.

Blaine is shouting the lyrics at him, and Kurt sets his own bottle down on the nearest table, wrestles Blaine’s from him as well, and leads them back to the dance floor.

The next song is slower and they huddle closer together, catching their breath after jumping around so much. Everything is warm and exciting and slightly fuzzy around the edges and Kurt just feels _great_. Dancing is amazing. He loves dancing. He loves dancing with other people, he loves the way it makes him feel, the possibilities -

There are lips against his, soft and wet and tasting like sweat and beer, and this is nice too. Kissing is nice. Kurt likes kissing a lot. And when the kissing turns into making out, he doesn’t really have a problem with that either.

Except when he remembers, through the haze in his mind, that it’s Blaine and tries to pull back. But Blaine makes a whining sound against his mouth and chases his lips and, okay, it’s just making out. And it feels so good. And he can’t really remember why exactly it’s a problem that this is Blaine. Blaine is practically an adult. He’s so smart. And so hot. And talented. Especially those lips, _damn_.

It’s after a few more dances that he’s stumbling through the crowd, Blaine’s fingers interlaced with his, and their bodies knocking into each other every few steps. He’s eager to get out of here by now, but he just has to - he has to let his friends know -

“I’m leaving,” he says, and this time it actually is Puck whose sleeve he grabbed. He’s told three guys before he actually found Puck.

Puck raises an appreciative eyebrow at Blaine, then bumps his fist against Kurt’s. “Awesome. Have fun.”

“Thanks,” Kurt says, then stops again by the door, looking at Blaine questioningly. “Don’t you need to tell your friend?” He’s pretty sure Blaine was here with a friend. Several friends? He doesn’t want them to worry.

“Santana?” Blaine asks. “‘s okay, she left with someone a half hour ago.”

“Oh.” Kurt grins. “Okay. Let’s go then.”

**

They keep kissing in the cab, because Blaine’s lips still taste like beer and he does that thing with his tongue that Kurt really likes and he also makes the _best_ sounds when Kurt does something he seems to like. There really just isn’t any reason to stop.

Kurt needs a little while to unlock his door, but once they’re inside, Blaine shoves him back against it and sucks a hickey into the side of his neck. It feels _awesome_.

As a thank you, Kurt grabs Blaine’s ass (which feels really amazing under his hands, oh god, it’s so round and firm and _fuck_ Kurt has always appreciated a nice ass), and hikes him up until Blaine gets the message and jumps a little to wrap his legs around Kurt’s waist.

They’re both still drunk, even though Kurt feels like he’s sobering up quickly. Still, he bumps them into walls and door frames on his way to the bedroom and there’s a lot of giggling, a lot of very off-center, very sloppy kisses.

Against the bedroom wall, he just stops for a second, presses Blaine against it and grinds them together, hard, quick rolls of his hips that make little sparks of pleasure explode in his groin.

Blaine moans and Kurt shoves his tongue in his mouth, the taste of beer almost gone by now.

“Bed,” Blaine gasps, and Kurt drops his legs, takes his hand instead and leads them the last few steps there.

He’s surprised to suddenly find himself being shoved backwards, lands on the mattress with a surprised “Oomph.”

Blaine climbs on top of him immediately, already shirtless, and Kurt’s shirt is gone as well before he has fully processed that he’s lifted his arms for it.

He just falls back against the bed as Blaine sucks and bites at the skin of his chest, he feels Blaine working at the button and zipper of his jeans, Blaine’s knuckles brushing against his straining erection again and again until he can finally lift his hips and let Blaine help him wiggle the pants and underwear down to mid-thigh.

Before he can reach for Blaine to help him get his cock out as well, there’s a hand squeezing his balls and then running up his shaft, thumb brushing over the head, and he falls back and groans shamelessly.

He’s been so turned on even before they’d left the club. It feels like he’s ready to come at any second.

He closes his eyes, lets Blaine jerk him off fast and a little too dry, and it feels like heaven.

Until the pressure is gone and Kurt blinks his eyes open to see Blaine tear open a condom wrapper with his teeth.

“What -” he starts, but then those fingers are back, rolling the condom onto him, and before he can ask where this is going, Blaine is leaning down and oh. _Oh_.

Suddenly, everything is warm and slippery, Blaine’s mouth eager and so good around his cock. One hand is still playing with his balls and he can’t help but thrust up shallowly, feeling close to the edge already and still wanting more.

Blaine hums around him and _shit_ that feels amazing, Kurt can’t stop the sounds escaping his own throat, moans and whines until Blaine sucks harder, fingers wrapped around the base where he can’t reach with his mouth.

Kurt cards his fingers through Blaine’s sweat-damp curls, tugs a little, and is rewarded with another low humming sound that sends pleasant shock waves through his groin.

“Oh god,” he gasps. “Blaine, fuck, I’m gonna -”

Blaine slides lower and swallows around him and the orgasm hits Kurt without much warning, tears through his body in sharp bursts of pleasure that make his back arch off the bed.

Blaine’s mouth keeps working on him until he slumps back down, spent, at the point of oversensitivity. He tugs at Blaine’s curls weakly until he pulls off, panting heavily, face flushed and mouth spit-slick and swollen.

“Fuck,” Blaine says, squeezing his eyes shut as he slides a hand between his own legs, rubbing himself hard through the fabric of his pants.

Kurt makes a weak sound of protest, grabbing for Blaine and shuffling them around until he’s half on top of him. It’s difficult and not very graceful since he’s still trapped in his own pants around his thighs, but he does manage to pin Blaine to the bed, get his jeans open and pull out his cock, hard and glistening with precome at the tip.

“Let me,” he breathes, and Blaine nods.

“Hurry up then, I’m so close, _ah_ -”

Kurt sets a fast rhythm from the beginning, fingers wrapped tightly around Blaine, pressing his forehead to his chest and squinting down to where he’s jerking him off.

Blaine’s hips are thrusting upwards into the circle of Kurt’s fist, half-aborted, jerky movements, his body shaking with the need for release. And the sounds he makes - Kurt feels his own cock twitch between his legs, trying to get hard again just from that.

It only takes a few minutes before Blaine cries out and thrusts up hard and his body goes rigid, muscles seizing up as he spills all over Kurt’s hand and his stomach and chest, a bit of it dribbling onto the front of his pants.

“Fuck,” he pants. “Fuck, oh fuck, Kurt, oh god -”

Kurt strokes him until he has nothing left, squeezing the last few spurts out of him until Blaine bats at his hand, whining.

“That was hot,” Kurt manages to say, before collapsing into Blaine. He feels - _amazing_.

**

When Blaine wakes up, it’s still mostly dark, only the first few rays of gray morning light filtering into the room. He’s woken by a yelp and something jostling him a bit, and he blinks his eyes open, the room unfamiliar, but that voice...

He rolls over, looks up at Kurt sitting next to him in the bed, eyes wide and back very straight and completely naked.

Blaine has to look down at himself to make sure - his head is pounding a little - but, yes, he’s completely naked too. They must have lost the clothes at some point between the sex and the falling asleep, and -

He freezes, looks back up at Kurt. Oh. They had sex. Again. And now - it looks like Kurt is totally freaking out.

And Blaine has a headache and he’s had a great night and an incredible orgasm and he feels like he needs a ton of greasy food and Kurt is beautiful and they’re actually sort of _friends_ now and he still has dried come on his stomach and okay, too much all at once.

He groans and closes his eyes again. He doesn’t know what’s gonna happen now. More sleep, he hopes.

“Fuck,” Kurt mutters. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“Go back to sleep,” Blaine begs. If they have to freak out about this, now is so not the time.

“Shit. Fuck,” Kurt says a little louder now. “Blaine. Blaine, wake up, come on. I can’t believe - fuck, I just can’t believe it, I’m so sorry, I’m never drinking again, I - oh god this is bad. Oh _god_ this is bad, this is _so_ bad, _fuck_ -”

Blaine sighs, sits up, stomach churning unpleasantly as he does. Because, okay. Kurt does have a point. They should probably talk about this.

“You’re totally freaking out right now, aren’t you?” Blaine asks, quietly.

Kurt rolls his eyes, wraps his arms around his chest. “Yes, Blaine, I am freaking out. You’re in my bed. We had sex. _Again_!”

“I know,” Blaine says.

“We said this could never happen again.”

“But it did.”

“This is bad.”

Blaine bites his lip, then decides to just say what’s on his mind. His head hurts and he really isn’t up for much more than that right now. “Why?”

“Why?” Kurt stares at him incredulously. “We’ve been over that.”

“Last time was different,” Blaine says.

“Yeah.” Kurt nods. “Last time, we didn’t know. This time, I actually slept with a student. Oh god. I _knew_ , and I _still_ -”

“It’s not like I couldn’t have stopped you,” Blaine reminds him. “We both wanted this. Or we were both drunk enough not to care. Does this have to be a big deal?”

“It _is_ a big fucking deal,” Kurt almost yells.

“I don’t think it is, though,” Blaine says. “It happened. What does it matter who we are?”

Kurt swallows, looking like he might cry. “Because it does matter, Blaine.”

Blaine sighs, feeling frustrated. “Yeah, but. Why?”

“We can’t do this,” Kurt answers.

“We’re not _doing_ anything,” Blaine points out. “We’re not doing anything to hurt anyone else. I like you, okay? Please tell me this won’t put us back to where we were at the beginning of this semester. Because that would be something I’d really regret. That would be the _only_ thing I’d regret.”

“I don’t want that,” Kurt admits, voice shaking. “I just think we shouldn’t - I don’t know, hang out anymore, I just don’t think it’s a good idea -”

“Tough,” Blaine says. “I don’t want to stop.”

“Blaine -” Kurt warns, but Blaine cuts him off.

“If we’re talking about this now, I’m gonna need some coffee.”

Kurt stares at him for a minute, then deflates visibly, laughing and shaking his head. “Okay,” he says. “Okay. Good. Yes.”

They crawl around the floor looking for their underwear, and when Blaine examines the come stains on his, Kurt tosses a clean pair from his drawer at his face, followed by some loose-fitting sweatpants and a hoodie.

“Thank you,” Blaine says, and Kurt shrugs, dresses himself in clean clothes before heading toward the kitchen.

Blaine makes a detour to the bathroom, scrubbing most of the dried come off his stomach before joining Kurt in the kitchen.

They don’t talk while Kurt makes coffee, they still don’t talk when they’re sitting at the kitchen table, hands wrapped around their mugs, legs tucked under their own chairs like they want to make sure that not even their feet can touch right now.

Kurt is the first to break the silence. “Did you -” he swallows. “Did you mean for this to happen last night?”

Blaine looks up, shocked. “What?”

“I mean.” Kurt closes his eyes for a second. “I know you said you just wanted to be friends. But then you were just _there_ and -”

“I didn’t plan this,” Blaine says. “Do you honestly think I would -”

“No,” Kurt interrupts. “No, I don’t. I’m sorry. I just had to make sure.”

“It’s okay,” Blaine says, not sure it really is. “I just want us to be - I don’t know. Okay.”

Kurt nods. “What do you want from me?” he asks, so quiet Blaine barely hears him.

Blaine frowns. “Nothing,” he answers. “Well, no that’s not true. I want - what it was the past few weeks,” he corrects himself. “I want to talk to you. And I want, I want to see you. I don’t know.” He rubs a tired hand across his face. “I really don’t know, Kurt.”

“I don’t know either anymore,” Kurt admits. “But this can’t happen again, okay?”

“Why not?” Blaine asks, at the risk of sounding petulant.

“Blaine -”

“No,” he interrupts, trying to explain. “I’m not asking you to date me. I’m not naive, Kurt, okay?” He catches his eyes, holds his gaze. “I’m not asking you to marry me or walk hand in hand down the halls or make out in front of the faculty. But I like you. And I know you like me. We could pretend this never happened, but I don’t want to. It did happen. Twice, actually. And it was great. And we had fun together. Both times. As consenting adults. This not an ideal situation, but it’s not the end of the world either. It’s not a big deal, not if we don’t make it one. I’d just, I’d like us to be … friends. Do you think we can do that?”

Kurt tilts his head, looking unsure. “You’re my student.”

“And you’re my teacher,” Blaine says. “And we’ve had sex twice. And you know what? I don’t give a fuck. I don’t have a problem with that.”

“You’re so young,” Kurt says.

Blaine snorts. “You’re twenty-five. You’re hardly ancient. We’re not that far apart.”

“I’m confused now,” Kurt admits. “I feel like I still don’t know what you want from me here.”

“What do _you_ want from _me_?” Blaine asks, because he really isn’t sure how to answer the question. The coffee helps, but he’s still feeling hungover.

“I don’t know,” Kurt says.

Blaine sighs. “I don’t know either.”

“One thing,” Kurt says, tentatively.

“What’s that?”

“If your head feels anything like my head right now, I’d really like to buy you breakfast. Something greasy.”

“Yes!” Blaine groans. “Oh god, that would be great.”

“And then we can talk later,” Kurt decides. “Once we’re a little more awake.”

“And a lot less headachey.”

“Exactly.”

“I like that plan,” Blaine says, and smiles at Kurt.


End file.
